Melting It Down

I'm not a quitter.  I say it over and over again.  To whom?  To me, I guess.  I am more miserable than I have ever been in my life, and that includes the period of time where I was being abused.  I ask myself why I am so miserable; the answer is simple.  I am in nursing school.  This was not my first choice.  I never saw myself as a nurse, and I still don't.  After getting halfway through the first semester, I realized finally that my first meltdown is well underway.

I'm not a quitter.  Is anyone listening?  Certainly not.  Put on the happy face that so many people have come to see on me.  I smile through it all.  Today I'm not smiling; I'm on the verge of tears.  I don't want this much responsibility.  I raised my siblings; I raised my kids.  I basically raised myself.  My husband and I are going through a tough time because his job was snatched out from under him.

I'm not a quitter.  All my life I've done whatever it was that I had to do, told myself whatever lies I had to in order to get through things I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.  And now I'm faced with the possibility that I will, once again, have to tell myself lies in order to survive.  I can't.  That's usually not in my vocabulary:  The word "can't".  Today I have on a shirt that says "I can't" on the front.  Stop right there.  I can't.  Why?  The back of the shirt says "I have clinicals tomorrow."  My heart sinks.

I'm not a quitter.  It's like a mantra to help me get through.  It's a lie.  I know it, and I keep saying it.  What makes this so hard?  Why is it so hard for me to decide what to do?  I have no choices.  I have no options.  It makes me sick to my stomach.  I hate clinicals.  This is not for me.  It is for other people who really want it, but not for me.

I'm not a quitter.  There it is again.  I go to class prepared and come out dazed and confused.  I do the best I can and it's not enough.  I don't have it in me to endure this kind of stress.  God bless the ones that do and make it through.  I had two sisters who were nurses.  I have no idea how they did it.  I hope it was what they really wanted.  This is not for the faint of heart.

I'm not a quitter.  I'm not going to tell that lie ever again.  I can quit and be okay with myself.  I can finish the semester, knowing it is the last one, and go on to what I really wanted to do in the first place.  I can, can't I? Maybe.  Maybe not.  Maybe I'm just a quitter.

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